The Whole was Greater than the Sum of Its Parts
by ShimmeringStar214
Summary: Eight years, four people, one team. The title says it all in a way. Set in the early season 8. General, team-fic Teal'c, Sam, Jack, Daniel , character study, friendship, angst.


**Morning**

Daniel's warm down comforter enveloped him like a cocoon, easing his transition back into consciousness. Sunlight streamed in through the windows above the head of his bed, pulsing and glowing and making him feel as if his entire being was Ascended. He liked that.

It was one of those mornings that his mind overflowed with ideas and theories and threads of insight from dreams that only now were lazily drifting away from him. He grabbed his pen from off the nightstand and started scribbling furiously in the journal he'd slid under his pillow the night before. The words fell out, thickly, jumbled and stilted. But he'd make sense of it. Someday.

After his last thought had been put to paper, Daniel smiled and shut the journal, flipping onto his back and absently scratching at the scar where his appendix had once been. As the warmth and light lulled him into a daydream haze, he imagined he could feel the presence of so many. His long-deceased parents. His beloved wife, Sha're, more recently deceased. The Ascended, the beings he knew were out there, watching his every move. His teammates on SG-1, the friends who'd become his second family.

He already knew what his second family would be doing that time of the morning. Teal'c would be in the mess hall, stacking a mountain of eggs, pancakes, and waffles on his plate and dousing his creation with a river of maple syrup and a dollop of strawberry and banana slices. Sam would be out running and thinking of another great plan to save the universe while making a mental list of last minute things she needed to do for the late season cookout she was hosting that night. Jack would be…well, he wasn't so sure about Jack these days. Daniel wasn't sure Jack had left the base at all that past week given the back-to-back emergent situations he'd had to deal with.

Daniel opened his eyes, squinting at the ceiling. Had the early days of SG-1 been like this? In his mind's eye, he remembered more carefree days than the rushed ones they'd had lately, where the team barely had time to nod at each other before heading their own ways. Of course, everything pre-Ascension seemed lighter and more innocent. The past year that he'd been back, things had seemed different, like he was always missing something, something important. Missing a memory or two. Missing the depth of compassion he once had.

He frowned as his bedroom darkened and he arched his neck back to squint at the sky through the sheer curtains. He was greeted by a blast of blinding sunlight as a rogue cloud finished its quick race across the sun's face. He shut his eyes and pulled his pillow over his face, grimacing as the back of his head hit the hard edge of his journal.

He knew he really needed to get out of bed, as late as it was getting. Jack had been hinting that downtime would be scarce the next few weeks, so he needed to make the best of what remained of the day. Besides, Sam had recruited him for chips, dips, and drinks for her evening cookout, and his own kitchen cupboards were empty.

Filled with the sudden need for a hot, steamy shower and the peace and contentment he usually found there, Daniel slid out of bed, pushing his pajamas bottoms to the floor and stepping away towards the bathroom.

------------------

**Afternoon**

Sam smiled as she beat the small steaks into submission with her mallet. Who'd have thought that food preparation was one way to work off pent-up energy? Nearly beat field ops.

Her smile widened as she thought about her recent promotion to lead her former field unit. Her long-ago daydreams at the Academy had been more about a long productive career in research than one in military operations, much less leading a field unit like SG-1. But as a newly-minted team commander, she couldn't have asked for a better team to lead. She, Daniel, and Teal'c had built a level of trust and understanding that only friends who had been through hell and back together could achieve.

It was a dynamic she'd been hesitant to mess with after Jack had reminded her she still had the option to fill her vacancy on the team. She'd briefly toyed with the idea, but she decided against it. Lesson learned; if she wasn't required to have a fourth, then she wouldn't given what Jack had gone through in trying to find a fourth after Daniel had ascended. Besides while SG-1 had withstood the tests of hardship and catastrophe nearly unbreakable, she could see they had started to bend and mold into something new under the new pressures and assignments they were being given, and she didn't want to bring someone new into that mix.

She wondered how intentional this all was on Jack's part. As the new base commander he wasn't making it easy for SG-1 to go out on missions at all. She'd always understood that their unique skills and abilities put them in high demand for serving the entire base in one capacity or another, but it seemed like Jack had been finding just one too many things for Daniel to examine and translate or one too many problems that he insisted that only she could solve.

She flashed back to the holding cell on the Replicator ship and what an angry and petulant Fifth had done. She hated to think about what Fifth was going to do with the DNA and memories he had stolen from her. But Jack had apparently, and his most recent assignment for her had been to finish work on a weapon that would stop Fifth and the Replicators once and for all.

She sprinkled more salt and pepper on the cut of steak and gave the meat a few more cursory hits. That should be enough for Jack and for Teal'c.

After setting the steaks in the vinegar and olive oil marinade that Teal'c had requested she use this time, she moved to the sink to wash her hands. She was really looking forward to kicking back and relaxing with the guys in the way they could only do in private. While her increased rank allowed her to get away with a slightly more informal public relationship with Jack, fact was that he was still her superior officer and because all they said and did on base was monitored twenty-four/seven, she didn't want to give anyone any ammunition about unseemly conduct or favoritism while she was commanding SG-1.

Shaking the now-damp hand towel, she also shook off her burst of pessimism. Tomorrow she would worry about work-related things she wanted, but today, in a few short hours, she'd bask in the love and friendship that only this family of friends could give her.

--------------------

**Evening**

The late evening sun had filled the backyard of Samantha Carter with a glorious golden haze that Teal'c viewed appreciatively with half-lidded eyes. His mind wandered away from the grill in front of him and the turning tongs that he held in both hands. He was happy that Samantha Carter had contacted him the day prior concerning having this dinner in O'Neill's honor.

He was grateful to the quirks of fate and of the false gods he'd once served that had delivered him into the hands of these particular Tau'ri. It had afforded him the luxury of time to study and to contemplate all manner of things, including the future of his Jaffa brethren, which he would have never had time or opportunity to do as First Prime of Apophis. It had taught him that all of his brothers and sisters would need to have a voice in the governing of their society.

The splatter of blood hitting red-hot coals in the grill caught his attention and he moved the thick hamburger patty away from the more intense heat and closer to the slower-cooking steaks his friend had prepared just for him. Watching more blood well up out of the meat, he knew in his heart that without the intervention of his friends, his life path would have led him to have risen against Apophis, most likely alone. And that it would have only brought about his own quick demise.

He looked up to see Samantha Carter flashing him a warm smile as she set a vase of flowers on the folding table that Daniel Jackson had just finished setting up. Teal'c was amazed again at the affinity he felt with this particular group of humans. SG-1 had seemed so foreign to him when he had first set eyes on them, their dress and their weaponry much different than those of most of the worlds Apophis had held dominion over. And their confidence, confidence bordering on cockiness in O'Neill's case, had been the thing that had completely jolted him out of his comfort zone, forcing him to take the decisive step to choose the life path that he had only dreamt about.

And it was that which he loved most about this people – their capacity for compassion-tempered confidence. Imperfect beings at best, but the only ones he would ever consider emulating or even sacrificing himself for as a free Jaffa man.

His long life had also taught him another valuable lesson - that nothing lasted forever. Some things, some phases of life, only lasted a few days, a few hours, others a few months or years, but all things, good and bad, came to an end someday. He allowed a smile to filter slowly over his face. He believed he was blessed; he had had over twice the amount time he had expected with his friends and colleagues, and he would savor and celebrate every last moment that he had with them.

In the face of the changes that he knew would arrive much sooner than any of them wanted, there was much to be said about basking in the sanctity and soul-filling properties of friends and alliances; of family and love, of life in the present.

He cocked his head as he heard the Simpson's theme song emitting from Samantha Carter's cellular phone. That would be O'Neill, he thought, a smug smile filling his face. "General?" he heard his new team commander ask as she smiled at Teal'c.

-------------------

**Night**

A lone jet suddenly roared low overhead, knocking Jack out of his reverie. Considering his rooftop observation deck wasn't in the flight path for Peterson Air Force Base, he wondered what mission orders would lead a lone pilot to blow by his place at - he glanced at his wristwatch – oh-two hundred in the morning. Probably something important. Something the pilot would never be able to talk to anyone about once he left debriefing.

Jack leaned back and rested his head against his beat-up lawn chair, feeling its icy metallic hardness pressing against his skull. Involuntarily shivering, he mashed his hands deeper into the crumpled corners of the pockets of his worn leather jacket. His telescope sat untouched nearby; the dull orange haze of the city's lights had been particularly bright and annoying that evening.

As much as he needed it, he couldn't lose himself in the wonders of the universe tonight. The universe was full of too many things that weren't so wonderful. The dull roar of a red-eye flight tens of thousands of feet above him made him think of the jet pilot again, and he imagined a young man sidling up to a noisy bar, the rowdy camaraderie welcome after the quiet and solitary journey of a jet on a dangerous mission.

He thought about the camaraderie he'd chosen to pass up that evening. Jack promised himself there'd be other times. He swore it didn't matter. But it did. No moment would be exactly like this one. Everyone – everything – would be different. What was that line in that song? "Time keeps on slippin', slippin', slippin' into the future…"

Even as a full bird colonel, he never would've thought twice about blowing off everything else for the rare opportunity to hang out with SG-1 after-hours, but now, since his promotion to general and to base commander, it didn't sit right with him to leave base when teams other than the one that used to be his own were in crisis. Something about walking the walk like Hammond had taught him, and all that jazz.

His eyes wandered slowly across the sparkling heavens above him. Surrounded by billions of stars and planets and here he was, alone. Utterly and irreversibly alone, thanks to the isolation that leadership brought with it.

Jack snapped his open mouth back shut, his throat now parched from the arid and crisp night air and his lips suffering from a dry itch that begged for a wetting. He reached for the beer bottle he'd been warming between his legs for a while, and lifted it to his lips. Empty.

A mournful and lonely howl echoed in the distance. A wolf.

And he knew exactly how it felt.

* * *


End file.
